


Angels and Demons

by misspronounced



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angel!Arthur, Demon!Eames, Future, M/M, death kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspronounced/pseuds/misspronounced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Love, it has only been 13 years.” Eames rests his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “To us that is a blink of an eye, a heartbeat, a power nap.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Where Arthur is an Angel in heaven and Eames comes to visit him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels and Demons

**Author's Note:**

> I love Angel and Demon AUs so I thought i'd give it a try. The timeline isn't explicit but I was thinking that this is a 100 years or so after Arthur and Eames turn into angel/demon.

Eames stared up at the massive hill and pristine white structure that sat on top of it that is reminiscent of the Parthenon. It was grander than he remembered and that thought made him smile. Even in the afterlife, no, not after life. Even in Arthur’s new life, which far surpassed the length his human life, making it not very new at all, he had a taste for extravagance. 

He took the slow way up, taking time to admire sights he hasn’t seen in over a decade. Taking the elegant and merely treacherous switchbacks up the small mountain. Arthur liked to landscape with whichever flora found his interest at the time, regardless of the season. This time it’s was red poppies, bright and delicate. Pleasing to the eye, but ultimately boring due to commonality. Arthur must have grown complacent - Eames thinks. 

Eames walks around the perimeter of the small palace to the back where there is a spacious field half covered with what could be an outdoor ballroom - fitted with a moulded roof held up by five strong and gaudy columns. Arthur could host Gatsby-esque parties in this space alone, but that never really suited him. Superficiality bores him. 

Leaning against the middle column, for the sake of symmetry, is Arthur, looking down at the world below. Gazing at the shapes and colors, not bothering to examine the details. He tilts his head up a fraction and focuses on the horizon when he senses Eames. Out of all the demons, Arthur always knows when it’s Eames because even when the air grows cold, his soul spikes with a flame that no one else has ever been able to ignite. 

The marble floors echo under Eames’ footsteps as he makes his way across the 100 meters or so to Arthur. Without a word he leans against the column across from Arthur in the same fashion and puts his hands in his pockets. 

It takes a few moments for Arthur to turn his head and look Eames up and down, taking in his choice of clothing. An off white sweater paired with dove grey pants and dark brown ombre oxfords. Clean. It’s a testament to Eames’ skill that he can look so - dare Arthur think, _angelic_ \- comfortable in such clothes. As Arthur seemingly analyzes Eames, Eames shamelessly drinks in the image of Arthur - his lean and toned body wrapped in an almost too tight burgundy three piece suit. Polished black shoes matching the black button-up that Arthur didn’t bother with the top two buttons. Just as mouthwatering as Eames’ always knew Arthur to be. 

If someone who didn’t know looked at them now, they would think Arthur the demon and Eames the angel. But that’s the kind of ambiguity that they always danced around - those labels were merely circumstantial to them. 

"Has that hill gotten taller?" Eames asks to break to the silence. 

"I enjoy the view," Arthur says for his answer. 

"It Is quite breathtaking." Arthur knows Eames doesn't mean the sights below because he can feel Eames' unwavering gaze on him. After all this time and practice at self control Arthur still can't help but smile just a little at Eames' words. 

“Come through the front?” Arthur asks. Judging by Eames’ outfit - he decided to feign an angel to get inside. 

“When I saw Dominic guarding the gate, it was an obvious choice.” 

“Like you had a another choice?” Arthur still couldn’t think that far outside of the box. 

“I could have cut through purgatory, but decided to take the scenic route.” 

Arthur studied Eames’ face - pale and tinted blue. Thin veins peeking out from the collar of his sweater up his neck and stopping right below his chin. Most of the demons become more lanky than their past selves, but not Eames. Never the conformer, he kept his bulk and broad shoulders. Only a few times did Arthur entertain the thought that Eames kept the stature of his past life just for him. 

“How did you explain your…appearance” Arthur didn’t want to be rude and say ‘face’. That would imply that Eames’ face was something unsightly, but he was just as painfully beautiful in Arthur’s mind. 

“I told him I was under the weather”. 

Arthur breaks into a smile, dimples on display, and gives a low laugh. 

“What took you so long?” Arthur pauses, not wanting to sound lovesick. “To come back?” 

“Well the fifth World War did just end, darling. That took up most of my attention. And being judge, jury, and executioner takes up most of my time. But once the last of the treaties were signed I decided to take a holiday.” 

“Fair enough.” Arthur looks back down to Earth. 

Eames walks over to him and ghosts his fingers across Arthur’s cheek - placating him. Arthur will still never admit when his feelings have been hurt. 

“Love, it has only been 13 years.” Eames rests his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “To us that is a blink of an eye, a heartbeat, a power nap.” 

Arthur looks down and clears his throat. “I suppose”. 

Eames presses his cold lips to the corner of Arthur’s mouth, lingering there for a moment. “I promise to never be absent for that long again.” 

Arthur turns and gives him a glare. Both knowing that that is a flat out lie. It is what Eames is best at, afterall. Eames shifts and stands behind Arthur, loosely circling his arms around Arthur’s waist and clasping his hands together while settling his chin on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur lets out a long sigh as if he hasn’t breathed deeply since he last saw Eames. 

The nice thing about immortality is that time is of no concern anymore. They will always remain how they were when they left their pasts lives and became what they are now forever. No aging, no sickness, nothing could possibly keep them apart now - even the worlds that are supposed to. 

Arthur has his arms crossed and lets his body weight be fully supported by Eames as he leans back into his embrace. “I’ve never asked why you didn’t pick Heaven when you were offered the choice.” 

The question hangs heavy in the air, but Eames takes it as easily as if Arthur asked about the weather. “Because I knew I was not good enough. That I could not live up to such high standards. But looking back, you were my standard of good. I should have known that you would surpass everyone by miles, us per usual. No one can best you, darling.” 

Every word that Eames said touched the intimate nerves that Arthur only exposed for him. Heat pooled low in Arthur’s stomach and he knew soon he wouldn’t be able to think straight. Arthur’s tell was that he stiffened suddenly then relaxed further into Eames’ arms. Eames smirked and continued talking. He used his voice to seduce Arthur - whispering low into his ear, letting his rugged yet smooth timbre weave its way through Arthur’s being until he couldn’t stand it any more. 

“Very early on though, I’ve come to realise that the bad side of humanity is so boring.” Eames’ lips were tickling Arthur’s ear and blowing frigid breath down his neck. Arthur swallowed hard to maintain his threadbare composure. “People like to think that they are original with their crimes, but evil is evil all the same - it’s so predictable. And everyone thinks they are a damn Bond villain.” 

Eames’ hands unclasp and slide to grasp Arthur’s sides in a tight grip. This is Eames’ tell, but he’s using it to let Arthur know that he is just as aroused. 

“But the good. That is where the excitement lies. The bad people are no fun because they’re obvious. But to dig out the evil that lies within a person - to discover their vices and unravel them slowly is way more exhilarating. To undo a person and lie them out exposed gives me a high unlike any other. I have never failed, because even the purest have a darkness that is just waiting to be unleashed.” Eames moves his right hand over to the front of Arthur’s pants, feeling just how hard he is. Eames smiles wickedly. “But I don’t need to explain to you, do I? You know all too well, darling.” 

Arthur grabs Eames’ wrist and before Eames can blink has him pinned to the column and pressing his whole body against every bit of Eames he can reach. A second later their mouths collide and they fall into the frantic but familiar rhythm like no time has passed. Arthur presses his fingers into Eames’ jaw to make him open his mouth as he licks away the ache in his bones that has been there for the last 13 years. 

They rush to Arthur’s lavish bedroom, which has a bed used only for these occasions. After effortlessly shedding the fabric that separates their skin, they fall onto the grey silk and make up for lost time. They last only a fraction of the time they normally do. Passionate and rough and tender all at once and when Eames comes, he cries out Arthur’s names like _he_ is God. 

Sometime later Arthur is laying on his side with his head on Eames’ chest and tracing the spider-like lines that mark his body and make him look like cracked porcelain. As Eames gazes at the ceiling he absently stroked his hand through Arthur’s mussed hair. 

“Eames?” 

“Yeah, love?” Eames answers, sounding so far away. 

“Do you still love me?” Arthur could throw up at how sentimental and pitiful he sounds. “Like how you used to, before … all this?” 

Eames shifts, removing Arthur from on top of him and when Arthur protests he just gently pushes him back down. He leans on an elbow and hovers over Arthur and looks down with full attention and caresses his cheek. 

“Do you remember when we were foolish and human and I said that I will love you forever, even beyond death?” 

Arthur nods and intently watches Eames with his deep golden eyes. 

“Now that we have survived death, I can make good on my promise.” Eames seals his lips with Arthur’s and convinces him that this time he is not lying. 

Out of all the human emotions that Arthur has long since done away with, the way his heart flutters when he is around Eames, has proven to be a stubborn one.


End file.
